inalongengagement.Ialwaysthinkthatnomutual—”
“Oh!dearMrsCroft,”criedMrsMusgrove,unabletoletherfinishherspeech,“thereisnothingIsoabominateforyoungpeopleasalongengagement.ItiswhatIalwaysprotestedagainstformychildren.Itisallverywell,Iusedtosay,foryoungpeopletobeengaged,ifthereisacertaintyoftheirbeingabletomarryinsixmonths,orevenintwelvebutalongengagement—”
“Yes,dearma’am,”saidMrsCroft,“oranuncertainengagement,anengagementwhichmaybelong.Tobeginwithoutknowingthatatsuchatimetherewillbethemeansofmarrying,Iholdtobeveryunsafeandunwise,andwhatIthinkallparentsshouldpreventasfarastheycan.”
Annefoundanunexpectedinteresthere.Shefeltitsapplicationtoherself,feltitinanervousthrillalloverherandatthesamemomentthathereyesinstinctivelyglancedtowardsthedistanttable,CaptainWentworth’spenceasedtomove,hisheadwasraised,pausing,listening,andheturnedroundthenextinstanttogivealook,onequick,consciouslookather.
Thetwoladiescontinuedtotalk,tore-urgethesameadmittedtruths,andenforcethemwithsuchexamplesoftheilleffectofacontrarypracticeashadfallenwithintheirobservation,butAnneheardnothingdistinctlyitwasonlyabuzzofwordsinherear,hermindwasinconfusion.
CaptainHarville,whohadintruthbeenhearingnoneofit,nowlefthisseat,andmovedtoawindow,andAnneseemingtowatchhim,thoughitwasfromthoroughabsenceofmind,becamegraduallysensiblethathewasinvitinghertojoinhimwherehestood.Helookedatherwithasmile,andalittlemotionofthehead,whichexpressed,“Cometome,Ihavesomethingtosay”andtheunaffected,easykindnessofmannerwhichdenotedthefeelingsofanolderacquaintancethanhereallywas,stronglyenforcedtheinvitation.Sherousedherselfandwenttohim.Thewindowatwhichhestoodwasattheotherendoftheroomfromwherethetwoladiesweresitting,andthoughnearertoCaptainWentworth’stable,notverynear.Asshejoinedhim,CaptainHarville’scountenancere-assumedtheserious,thoughtfulexpressionwhichseemeditsnaturalcharacter.
“Lookhere,”saidhe,unfoldingaparcelinhishand,anddisplayingasmallminiaturepainting,“doyouknowwhothatis?”
“Certainly:CaptainBenwick.”
“Yes,andyoumayguesswhoitisfor.But,”(inadeeptone,)“itwasnotdoneforher.MissElliot,doyourememberourwalkingtogetheratLyme,andgrievingforhim?Ilittlethoughtthen—butnomatter.ThiswasdrawnattheCape.HemetwithacleveryoungGermanartistattheCape,andincompliancewithapromisetomypoorsister,sattohim,andwasbringingithomeforherandIhavenowthechargeofgettingitproperlysetforanother!Itwasacommissiontome!Butwhoelsewastheretoemploy?IhopeIcanallowforhim.Iamnotsorry,indeed,tomakeitovertoanother.Heundertakesit”(lookingtowardsCaptainWentworth,)“heiswritingaboutitnow.”Andwithaquiveringliphewoundupthewholebyadding,“PoorFanny!shewouldnothaveforgottenhimsosoon!”
“No,”repliedAnne,inalow,feelingvoice.“ThatIcaneasilybelieve.”
“Itwasnotinhernature.Shedotedonhim.”
“Itwouldnotbethenatureofanywomanwhotrulyloved.”
CaptainHarvillesmiled,asmuchastosay,“Doyouclaimthatforyoursex?”andsheansweredthequestion,smilingalso,“Yes.Wecertainlydonotforgetyouassoonasyouforgetus.Itis,perhaps,ourfateratherthanourmerit.Wecannothelpourselve